


didn't know i was lonely 'til i saw your face

by teaspoon



Series: i wanna get better [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sexual Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:18:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10058615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaspoon/pseuds/teaspoon
Summary: Archie puts on a clean, wash-worn t-shirt and walks over to the bed, sits down and waits. Jughead feels as if he’s being pulled forward, as if Archie’s the sun and Jughead is a planet falling into his orbit. He felt a little like that this summer, before everything, and that was new and scary too; they used to be on equal footing and then everything changed, broke, fell apart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And this is where this series officially takes a hard left from canon. Once again, I'm not making an explicit claim to asexual representation. In this story, Jughead's feelings about sex can be interpreted as sex-positive asexuality or simply as a variation in sexual attraction/libido. People are complicated. Sexuality is complicated. You do you.

They don’t talk about what they’re doing, at first. He doesn’t know what Archie tells his dad about bringing Jughead home, except that Fred brings them a spare pillow and blanket and then leaves them alone for the rest of the night. There’s a distinct sense of _we’re going to talk about this later_ in the way Fred turns to look at them when he closes Archie’s door, but later is later. They don't have to deal with it now.

Jughead takes off his outer layers, takes off his shoes and socks and jeans, everything just a little bit damp. The light in the room is low but he feels self-conscious as he turns around, down to his t-shirt and boxers, and finds Archie standing on the other side of the room by the dresser in just his boxer-briefs. Jughead is aware of his skinny legs and the way he slouches so he looks shorter than Archie even though they’re about the same height. He’s aware, also, of the ease with which Archie wears his attractiveness, which is weird to think about because Archie’s always looked good to Jughead, even back when nobody except maybe Betty spent nearly as much time looking at Archie.

Archie puts on a clean, wash-worn t-shirt and walks over to the bed, sits down and waits. Jughead feels as if he’s being pulled forward, as if Archie’s the sun and Jughead is a planet falling into his orbit. He felt a little like that this summer, before everything, and that was new and scary too; they used to be on equal footing and then everything changed, broke, fell apart.

Now, they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on Archie’s unmade bed and his room smells like popcorn and Febreze and teenage boy, and it shouldn’t be comforting but it is. Archie puts his hand palm up on his thigh and this time, Jughead takes his hand and holds on tight, leans their heads together so they’re both looking down at their clasped fingers. Archie reaches over with his free hand and plucks Jughead’s beanie off his head. His scalp feels strangely cool as Archie carefully sets the beloved hat aside, and when Archie cards his fingers through Jughead’s messy, not particularly clean hair, he closes his eyes.

They sit like that for a while, Archie stroking his hair like he’s a puppy, or Jellybean after a nightmare. He considers falling asleep with his head on Archie’s shoulder but in truth, his body feels more awake than it has in months. The nerve endings in his scalp and the back of his neck, in his fingertips and all the way up his arms, are lit up like a house covered in garlands of Christmas lights. He wants Archie to kiss him again, he wants to lie down and feel the weight of Archie’s body grounding him to the bed, to the earth.

He tugs on Archie’s hand, eyes opening slowly and a smile ticking the corner of his mouth upwards as he scoots up onto the bed, bringing Archie with him. They stop holding hands while they arrange themselves under the covers, Jughead’s knobby knees bumping up against Archie’s and feeling the soft rasp of the hair on their legs brushing together.

Archie traces the line of Jughead’s arm with his fingertips, shoulder to elbow, following the bend until he reaches his wrist, calluses and hangnails catching occasionally at the thin skin on the inside of Jughead’s forearm.

“Is this okay?” Archie asks, bringing his hand to Jughead’s face, his thumb tracing the curve of Jughead’s lip until his mouth falls open.

Jughead doesn’t trust his voice so he nods silently, lays his own hand along the side of Archie’s square jaw. He lifts his chin like a dare that Archie takes, darting in for the kiss.

It feels as though time slows down and expands around them, their lips caressing each other’s mouths and cheeks, foreheads, noses, throats. Archie moans, low in his chest, when Jughead drags his tongue along the jut of his collarbone, and it makes Jughead bold. He plasters himself more firmly against Archie, covering his body from chest to hip, his thigh finding a place between Archie’s legs. Their kisses are slow and honeyed, Jughead’s lips buzzing as their hands explore each other’s chests and backs and arms. He tucks his fingers into Archie’s armpit and it makes him laugh, a sweet, joyous little sound that makes Jughead grin.

“Aww, dimples,” Archie comments, thumbing over one of Jughead’s cheeks.

“What, don’t ‘aww’ me.” He pinches lightly at the inside of Archie’s bicep, which makes Archie shift up against him, bringing Jughead’s focus to the unmistakeable heft of Archie’s half-hard dick pressed along the top of Jughead’s thigh.

Jughead’s been doing a pretty good job of ignoring it thus far, largely because he isn’t sure what he’s going to do about it, or if Archie even wants him to do something. He’s curious, is the thing. He wants to know what it feels like for Archie, if it has the kind of urgency Jughead sees reflected on screen and on the page. Jughead feels desire diffusely in his physical body, even if he feels it acutely in his mind, at least when it comes to Archie. He imagines that what other people feel, what Archie feels, must have an intensity to it that Jughead hasn’t yet experienced.

He rolls over onto his back and tugs at Archie until he gets with the program and switches positions, lying on top of Jughead. Like this, Archie’s dick is trapped against the crest of Jughead’s hip, growing steadily harder. Archie’s cheeks are flushed, and Jughead kisses each one, high up at the top of his cheekbones. Archie takes it as encouragement, grinding down against him, and Jughead can feel his own cock starting to stir, the physiological response kicking in even as he’s trying to parse his feelings about all of it.

He doesn’t really want to get off, he decides, but he likes the way Archie’s body feels, blanketing him, moving against him, and if Archie wants to get off then he wants to see it. Archie’s hips hitch against Jughead, rutting against his stomach through the scant layers of their clothes.

“Hey.” He touches Archie’s stomach, the muscles fluttering under his palm, and he wants to be so gentle with Archie, wants to treat him as kindly as Archie doesn’t seem to treat himself anymore. “I want to see you.”

He takes Archie’s hand and places it over the tent in Archie’s grey underwear, smoothes his hand over Archie’s knuckles. Archie’s eyes are closed, the touch of his own hand good enough to make him shudder, apparently, but they snap open again when Jughead speaks.

“I wanna watch. You get what I’m saying?”

Archie nods, slowly, and he props himself over Jughead on one arm, reaching for his waistband. Jughead lets go of his hand so that Archie has room to maneuver, and then he’s looking down at Archie’s cock, rising from a neat thatch of pubic hair and flushed a deep pink, naked at the head. It’s the first cock other than his own that he’s ever seen in real life, and it’s Archie’s, and it’s hard because Archie’s been kissing him. Jughead feels weirdly touched by that, grateful almost, and he offers Archie a small, genuine smile. Archie smiles back, a little bit shy but growing in confidence as he strokes his dick with just the tips of his fingers. He nudges his nose against Jughead’s cheek, momentarily obscuring his view in favor of more kissing, which Jughead definitely likes. Making out with Archie is everything he hoped it would be, and everything else so far is more than he’s even been able to imagine on his own.

He looks down again and watches the way Archie takes himself more firmly in hand, hears and feels him huff out a warm gust of air against the underside of Jughead’s chin at the change in sensation. Archie’s head rests against Jughead’s arm, and he bends it at the elbow, twining his fingers in Archie’s bright hair.

“Come on, Arch. Show me what you got.”

The hint of a challenge, however teasing, seems to spur Archie on, his hand moving over his shaft faster, with a twist of the wrist at the top of the stroke. He seems to like the way it feels when he rubs his thumb just under the crown of his dick, along the ridge, and Jughead files that away in his brain along with Archie’s favorite ice cream flavor and his new jersey number, all the facts about Archie that he’s hoarded over the years.

Archie’s breath comes faster, harsher, loud in the small space between their bodies but still hushed. One hip bears down against the bed and his spine curves and bows in restless waves as he jerks off, eyes falling shut. Jughead pushes up Archie’s shirt so he can watch his abdominal muscles bunch together and release, so he can touch the warm dip of skin over his sternum.

It doesn’t take experience to know when Archie is about to come, his hand moving in tight little tugs around the head of his dick. He bites down on his lower lip and Jughead uses the hand in his hair to pull Archie’s head back, baring his face and the long column of his throat to Jughead’s view.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, encouraging, and Archie’s whole body goes tight and then jerks loose.

Archie cups his hand over the tip, catching his own mess, and his eyelids flutter like it’s a struggle to open them, to focus on Jughead’s face. When their eyes meet, Archie’s mouth pulls into a dopey smile.

“That was… It felt so good,” Archie says, sounding slightly hoarse and very earnest. “Do you want –?”

Jughead shakes his head no. His own arousal feels incidental, and his cock never got past half mast anyway.

“Does it always feel that good?” he asks. He still has one hand in Archie’s hair, although he’s loosened his grip, and the other one is rucking up Archie’s shirt. He can feel the rapid beat of Archie’s heart against his palm and it feels just as intimate as the moment of Archie’s orgasm.

“Mm, I don’t know, I guess.” Archie sounds the way Jughead thinks he’d sound if he were drunk, and Jughead figures he’ll save any more questions for another time.

After a moment, Archie looks down at his come-covered hand with mild chagrin until Jughead takes pity on him and helps him out of his t-shirt so he can use it to wipe himself clean. The shirt gets dropped to the floor afterwards, a problem for tomorrow. Archie tucks his soft cock back into his boxers and presses a kiss to Jughead’s mouth, a little sloppy and off center.

“I liked that you were here. It made me feel good that you were watching me. It was hot,” Archie admits, after they’ve resettled shoulder to shoulder, both of them looking up at the ceiling.

Jughead turns his head and looks at Archie’s profile, backlit by lamplight. “Watching is kind of my specialty.” He could leave it there, keep things light, but if anyone has earned Jughead’s honesty it’s Archie, tonight. “Watching you was pretty hot for me too.”

“Even if you didn’t get off?” Archie sounds curious, not judgmental, his face peaceful and unlined.

“Even if.”

“Okay.”

Archie reaches over to turn off the lamp. Tiredness settles over Jughead then, and he’s half asleep when he feels Archie’s touch against his hand. It takes a moment for him to realize that Archie is linking their thumbs together.

In the morning, there will be questions from Fred, questions between Archie and him, miles to go and all that. But for now, it’s enough to be sheltered against Archie’s side, to hold onto that small point of contact between their hands and trust that it’s enough to keep them from getting lost in the night.


End file.
